Halfway House
by EmilySamara
Summary: Contains elements of HetaOni (have not played it) and horror films. Premise: a historical halfway house in Japan's Fukushima Prefecture holds a dark secret. When a large number of nations visit this supposedly haunted house, it sets off a chain of terrible events that threaten to destroy the modern world, beginning with the countries.
1. Prologue

**March 11**

"It'll be fun," America had said.

"We'll learn about history," Britain had said.

"We can look at the Fukushima reactor," Russia had said.

"Why," Italy mused to himself in a daze, "did I ever listen to them?"

If they hadn't gone, everything would be fine. Japan would be alive, unbroken. Germany would be here. Dreams would not have been shattered. Brothers would not have turned against brothers. And Italy wouldn't be alone in this gray, foggy hell, sitting amongst his dead friends' remains.

He should have never agreed to go. Should never have entered that church, opened that book, read those words. Should have stayed home. Like the coward he was. Then he wouldn't be here, cold and wet and scared, and singing that cruel mockery of a song.

"Hey, hey papa, could I have some wine? Hey, hey mamma, hey, hey mamma..."

He'd never had a mother, or a father. Never had some loving woman nurture him from childhood, send him to school, see him graduate. Of course he wanted a mother...

"It doesn't matter what I do, I'll never forget..."

How could he forget? There was nothing to remember. Nothing to come.

"That taste of bolognese, it won't get out of my head."

The last meal he'd eaten in his house, his lovely, safe, familiar home.

"Draw a circle, there's the Earth."

A circle? More like a sodden heap of bodies and blood.

"Draw a circle, there's the Earth."

The Earth? Where? All its countries were slumped together in the remains of some factory in Japan.

"Draw a circle, there's the Earth."

Italy drew a misshapen circle in the air with a limp, pale finger.

"I am Italy..."

_Why me?_


	2. Day One

**March 1**

"Y'all okay there, little buddy?"

Italy grinned at America, not minding the infantilizing term despite the fact that America was actually much younger than himself.

"I'm-a fine, _amico_. Just tired."

"Yeah," America agreed, stretching. "Jet lag's a bitch, huh?"

Italy made a noise of agreement, then turned to his side. "Hey-a Japan? How long till we-a get there?"

Japan checked his watch. "Not rong, Itary-kun. Onry about twenty, sirty minute. This is sa best monorair rine in sa country. Very efficient."

"Ah man. Nice." America resumed stretching, resembling an overgrown orange cat wearing a vintage WWII bomber jacket. "So where're we gonna be staying?"

"A nice hotel right down sa street from sa house in question," Japan answered quietly. "Sere is arso a nice church nearby."

"Eh? Wow, really, Japan?" Britain, sitting next to America, asked. "I thought Catholicism and such were frowned upon in your country."

"Usuarry, yes. Sis church was built soon after sis halfway house we are visiting was shut down, as a show of torerance to oser ways of rife in oser countries."

Britain nodded. "Makes sense."

The halfway house they were visiting was called the "Cleansing House," a historical landmark of Japan's Fukushima Prefecture that had been built around the time of the Meiji Restoration. Its intended purpose had been to "fix" the Japanese people's old habits and cultural stereotypes so as to fit in better with the rest of the civilized world.

Following the successful "treatments" of the Japanese patients, many elderly foreign immigrants to Britain and America had also sought asylum in the so-called "Cleansing House." Soon, however, the "treatments" given to the residents became somewhat questionable, and the owners were forced to close it down. Ever since, the place had become an unmoderated tourist destination, owing greatly to the claim that the House was haunted by the ghosts of the previous patients.

When America had learned of the House's existence at last year's G8 summit, he immediately began making plans for as many countries as possible to visit the house together, combined with a small vacation. Through a lot of careful planning and negotiations that everyone wished would show through in his usual foreign policy and economy, America had managed to find a time that almost all of the countries would be available for a break-the first week of March, 2011.

Italy hadn't exactly been chomping at the bit to go on the trip-haunted houses weren't exactly la sua cosa preferita-but it was at Japan's place, and he didn't want to disappoint everyone else. Besides, he was planning to "fake sick," backed up by his terrible economy. (Greece hadn't even been invited.)

The rest of the ride passed in peaceful silence until the monorail stopped at the capital of Fukushima and the first wave of countries-the G8 plus Spain and Romano-staggered off, bleary-eyed and severely jet-lagged.

"Let's get some food," America suggested, yawning.

Sushi was the obvious choice, and the tired group soon found themselves in a nicely-furnished restaurant specializing in the tasty raw fish and vinegared rice. The flustered-looking waiter looked happily surprised when all of the Caucasians placed their orders in perfect, albeit accented, Japanese.

Aside from the anime-borne multilinguality, the countries blended in perfectly with the other tourists in the restaurant, as was their goal: a normal, undercover vacation. When Britain was ordering some sushi, however, and tried to call to Japan for a good opinion, he slipped up a bit.

"_Nee, Nihon..._"

The waiter did a double-take, not used to hearing people called to by the name of his native country.

Britain brought his hand to his forehead. "_Nee, Kiku... Gome_."

"Be more careful, prease!" Japan chastised him later as they enjoyed their sushi.

"Sorry, it was entirely my blunder," Britain covered a yawn.

"It okay, Britain-ahen," China rolled his eyes, saying the last word with a hint of a sharp tone. "It not something worry about, and you very tiahed. Lighten up, Japan!"

"Please do not have de fighting," Russia said slowly, patting China and Japan on their arms, causing both to shiver. "I do not like de fighting on de vacation, da?"

China swallowed. "Da."

...

Due to one too many miscommunications, the group ended up unfortunately showing up at the wrong hotel. Luckily, Germany pointed out the mistake before anything annoying or embarrassing could occur at the front desk, but there was a collective moan when they figured out that their hotel was in a different district of the Prefecture, in a coast town called Sōma.

Much to Japan and Germany's irritation, they didn't arrive at the hotel until 5:00, a full hour after their check-in time. However, they both hid their irritation remarkably well during the check-in.

"_Konichiwa_. Are you all part of the international group?" The pretty attendant asked in Japanese.

"_Hai_." Japan bowed to her deeply, causing her to blush a little. "I am so sorry for our lateness, miss."

"It's no problem at all! So that's six rooms for the eleven of you?"

"Eleven?" America asked in Japanese. "Uh, there's only ten of us!"

"Uh... what about your brother, sir?"

"Oh, jeez! Hey, bro!" America shouted loudly in English. "Since when have you been here?!"

"Since we got on the plane," the familiar quiet, tired voice replied. "_Arigato_," he said as he received his and America's room key. America grabbed it and put it in the pocket of his jacket.

The countries had reserved many rooms, mostly at the expense of Germany, but still, many had to double up. Italy was relieved to find that he was partnered with his brother, not Japan or Germany. Romano certainly wouldn't care if he faked sick-heck, he'd probably do the same. America and Canada were together, Spain and France-seemed odd, but at least the worst smells would be confined to one room. Britain and Germany were an excellent match-the housekeeping would be delighted at the cleanliness. China and Japan together was a bit of a given. Russia had his own room, for the most obvious of reasons.

"So what's the plan, Japan-my-man?" America asked Japan before they got settled into their rooms.

Japan shrugged. "Whatever you rike, America. Arsough it is raser rate..."

"Awesome! More sushi! Britain, dude, you with me?"

Britain nodded, rolling his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, his appetite was nearly as big and unsatiable as America's. "Just... try not to make a scene, okay?" He pleaded as he followed the younger nation outside.

"I sink zat Austria und I vill be exploring za house zis evening vhen he arrives," said Germany. "Ve vant to get a head start on learning za history."

Italy made a face. "Yucky, that sounds-a boring!" And scary, he added to himself. "I-a think Japan and I will-a play some video games in-a my room." He gave Japan a grin. "Sound-a good?" Japan nodded with a little smile.

"I am so tiahed from jet lag." China fanned his face. "I will retiah to my room as well."

"Oui, I must be fully rested for our excursion tomorrow," France yawned.

"I think I will going to visit some temples with Lituania ven he gets here," Russia smiled. "He always likes to pray ven he is around me..."

The others tried to smile with him, but found it kind of difficult.

"I'll stay here and wait for the others," the hospitable Spain volunteered. "The rest of you, get back to your rooms."

Everyone did, except for the aforementioned and consequently forgotten brother of America. America had taken their shared room key and Canada was much too shy to ask for another, so he decided he'd visit the church Japan had mentioned.

March 1st, day one. Nothing bad had happened. ... Yet.

**You like? Tell me what you think! I gave you a creepy, confusing prologue and a meaty, comfortable first chapter to chew on. Let's hear some feedback!**


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